


Welcome to the World

by DontAtKiwi



Category: Mianite - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: CaptainSparklez - Freeform, Lady Ianite (Minecraft) - Freeform, Lord Dianite (Minecraft) - Freeform, Lord Mianite (Minecraft) - Freeform, M/M, Realm of Mianite, Syndicate, iijeriichoii - Freeform, light injury, mianite - Freeform, slight AU, syndisparklez
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-19 14:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16536638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontAtKiwi/pseuds/DontAtKiwi
Summary: In a slight turn of events CaptainSparklez washes up onto the world of Mianite with a broken ankle. Unable to start building he reads up on some of the lore of the land and discovers something strange in an old book. Faced with a choice between following his destiny and his friendship with Syndicate Jordan feels like he's lost at sea.





	1. Chapter 1

Waves crashing against a distant surf sound a lot like the wind through treetops. It's a disorienting revelation, Jordan thinks, as the lapping ocean pushes him further up the beach. If he closes his eyes the motion of the water feels like sleeping in a swaying tree. He closed his eyes. It was peaceful, despite everything. The waves carried him up into the sand, settling him there, cheek and shoulder pressing into the damp grit. It was heating up now, without the water buoying around him, but Jordan couldn't summon the energy to move. Instead, he focused again on the sound of the surf, imagining a lush canopy in its place. 

The thing about being adrift at sea for any inordinate amount of time is that you tire quickly, and then spend the rest of time, until death, floating around with  
sunstroke, dehydrated, and barely lucid.

Just lucid enough apparently, because the sand was causing his nose to itch something fierce. Groaning hoarsely Jordan propped his elbow up under himself and hoisted his torso off of the sand. His head lolled, chin dropping against his chest. The sand caked to his face and hair stubbornly remained, and he attempted to dislodge it with a limp shrug of his shoulder before slumping weakly, face first, back into the beach.

His vision tilted and swam, and he grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut. Some part of his mind was shouting in time with the thumping behind his temples, telling him, 'Hey! You've made it to land! Hey!’ but he couldn't process it. Jordan was thinking about trees and rusting leaves. He felt like he was back in the jungle. 

“Hey!” a distinctly real voice shouted. “Welcome your face to the world of Mianite!”

Jordan blinked, eyelashes brushing sand. He couldn't see who it was, but he had a feeling he knew the voice. 

“Oh shit he's dead.” The voice stated when Jordan failed to respond. “Hey are you dead?” Asked the voice, this time accompanied by a prodding in his side. 

The sunburned captain managed to shrug a shoulder, earning him an ecstatic 'ooooh!’ from the man Jordan guessed was standing over him. He managed to place the voice as well, not everyone he knew would have a voice crack in the middle of an exclamation with a British accent.

Jordan was suddenly rolled over and had to squint against the sun before a very familiar, very green, face moved into view and blocked it out.

“Jordan! I should've been able to recognize those sparkly pants! What's up! Welcome to the world!” 

Of course it was Syndicate. Tom. They had met a few times before, a long while ago and talked a lot. Naturally this was before Jordan moved to the jungle, but he would still consider Tom a friend. Jordan shrugged again, unable to voice words between his swollen tongue and overcooked brain. His overcooked brain did think that Tom's green skin was awfully pretty though.

“That's awesome man, you look great, all covered in sand and disheveled. I love the uneven sunburn.” 

Jordan rolled his eyes but couldn't help grinning. It caused his salt-chapped lips to crack.

“Let's get you up then, I'm gonna take you on a tour of the island! Well I say it's an island because we've run all around it and there's ocean on every side, but the nether portals can take you to other biomes.” He was as enthusiastic as always. Jordan liked that. 

Tom then attempted to hoist Jordan up by the armpits, a task that proved much more difficult than expected in the loose sand.

“Oh gods you're so heavy, what have you been eating?” The green skinned man whined as his feet sank into the beach. 

Nothing but seawater these past few days is what Jordan wanted to say, but his right ankle shifted as Tom manhandled him and his jaw clenched as a white hot flash of pain bloomed across his vision. He gasped, stiffening and causing Tom to stumble slightly. 

“Mmankle.” Jordan managed to rasp in between short pained breaths. It was twisted at a weird angle, had been for a while. The pain was making his vision blur and his head lolled to the side as his stomach lurched dangerously. 

Syndicate was speaking again, hands flitting over Jordan’s body as he tried to problem solve his way to getting his friend off the beach but the shorter man couldn't hear any of it. The world had gotten muffled, the only clear sounds being the crashing of waves against the surf. The homey sound of a breezy jungle canopy. He slipped unconscious before realizing it was just the sound of blood rushing through his ears. 

 

Jordan did not wake, this time, to the sound of the jungle canopy or the sound of the surf. Rather the sensation of someone lightly slapping his face followed by an exclamation.

“Jesus dude! Don't slap him! ” 

Groaning, Jordan shifted his head, feeling a soft pillow beneath his cheek. 

“No it's totally working.” said Tom's voice accompanied by another slap.

Jordan opened his eyes, blinking as the world came into focus. Right now the world was two men standing above him.

“Well if it isn't Captainsparklez.” Said a thin faced man with a smirk.

“Tucker.” Jordan greeted hoarsely. “And Tom.” 

“Are you done dying yet?” Tucker quipped, adjusting his hat. Tucker, or Jericho was another old friend, though he knew Tom better than he did Jordan. He had a short temper but he was loyal, Jordan was glad to see him.

“Mm I think so” Jordan answered with a wry smile. He took a moment to assess how he was feeling. His mouth was dry and it was hard to swallow. The pounding in his head was unrelated to Tom's rough wake up methods, it seemed, and Jordan guessed that it was due to dehydration. The good news at least was that his head felt clearer than it had on the beach. 

“So, Mianite huh?” 

Syndicate nodded enthusiastically, breaking into a spiel. “Yup, it's a world where you can do anything, want to prank your friends? You can prank your friends. Want to-” 

Tucker shoved him to the side and Tom squawked and hopped to regain his balance. 

“Look we just found you like, half dead on the shore.” Tucked said, gesticulating. “Are you okay, do you need anything?” 

“Uhm, actually I think I'm ready to go do stuff.” Jordan answered, pushing himself to a sitting position, and scratching the back of his head. It would be incredibly convenient if he was close to his jungle but he doubted it. This world would likely be his new home, unless he could find a way to return to Jerry's Tree. “I should find a place to live, build a house.” 

Tom shouldered his way back beside Jordan's bedside, scoffing lightly. “Don't know if you've noticed dude, but your leg’s fucked.” He then grabbed the light sheet covering the bed and flipped it back revealing a bulky splint on Jordan's right ankle. He could tell it wasn't there for no reason, his ankle felt like it was burning. It send hot jolts of pain up his shin whenever he shifted it on the sheets and throbbed in a way that Jordan could tell it was incredibly swollen. 

“Huh.” 

“What do you mean, 'huh’, it's super broken! What did you even do?” Tucker exclaimed.

“I think I fell out of my tree? I'm not sure exactly.” 

“What did you hit your head on the way down too?” 

“I mean my head does hurt. For all I know you're just hallucinations my brain cooked up after being lost at sea.” Jordan joked, shifting his leg to test his mobility with the splint. Not good.

“Well it's a pretty damn fine hallucination at least.” Interjected Tom. “Well I am anyway, it's a shame about Tucker.”

“Okay that's it, out! Get out of my house, Tom.”

“That's no fair, you can't have Sparklez all to yourself!”

“Then take him with you! I need to go to the nether.” Tucker grumbled, rooting around in a chest, clearly done with humoring Tom.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Jordan looked to Tom. “Walking might be a bit of an issue, unless you have a minecart system?” He asked hopefully.

Tom clicked his tongue, “Nope, don't have that. I figured I could just carry you right?” 

A bark of laughter came from Tucker's direction. “Yeah no offense Tom but I think the captain is a little to heavy for you.”

“Are you calling me fat?” Jordan joked

“Obviously not, Jordan.” Tucker said, running his eyes up and down Jordan's toned body before grabbing a pickax and stopping, one foot out the door. “Use your horse, Tom.” He finished before strolling out the door and down the steps. 

“Ooh yeah that's a good idea, let me go grab him.” Tom said, scratching his chin before bounding out of the house.

And just like that Jordan was alone again. It gave him some time to stiffly work his way to standing, keeping pressure off of his injured ankle, and root through one of Tucker's chests for food and water. He took a moment to press his forehead against the wall, letting the roiling waves of pain from his ankle crash over him like the ocean he only recently escaped. Captainsparklez sucked in a deep shuddering breath from his nose and righted himself, shaking hands gripping tightly to the corner of a support pillar. Leaning heavily on the walls he painstakingly made his way out the front door and looked around.

Tucker's house was apparently on the top of a mountain, other peaks stretching around it, he could see a savanna from here but mostly just craggy cliffs. The air felt cool and crisp in his lungs and Jordan breathed in deeply, soaking in the new world. 

It was certainly different from the biome he had most recently considered home. The open plains and monstrous crags made him feel exposed, like he could be easily spotted and picked off by any wayward mob. And that would be all the easier with his busted ankle. Jordan didn't like to be slowed down or restricted in any of his options. He couldn't easily gather supplies, mine, or build any sort of structure like this and it was frustrating. Standing around all day with nothing to do didn't suit him. 

Luckily the rhythmic sound of approaching horse hooves thudding on the stairs broke his train of angsty thought and he turned to face an approaching Tom atop a speckled gray and white stallion.

“Howdy Sparklez!” The green skinned Brit greeted in a bastardization of what Jordan assumed was supposed to be a southern accent. 

“Was that your cowboy impression?” Jordan scoffed, limping over to meet him.

“Yes and it was quite good, I can tell by your expression.”

Captainsparklez laughed and accepted Tom's outstretched hand, slinging himself up behind his zombie skinned companion. 

“How about a tour then?” Syndicate chirped, nudging his horse into motion and guiding it down the steep steps that wound down the side of the mountain. The stallion lurched forward and Jordan wrapped his arms around Tom's middle, appreciating how solid he was. Jordan considered himself well built, and despite the fact that Syndicate was a thin guy he had always been just about as solid as Jordan. The stockier man contributed it to Tom's zombie traits. He was hard to kill. That was good though, they didn't have the safest occupation. It would be easy, Jordan thought, for himself or any one of his friends to build or fortify a small town and live a mob free life. That never suited any of them though. They were all too restless, too curious about the world around them. Even when they built houses they never stopped moving, pushing the limits of their bodies and tools. 

His injured ankle jostled against the horse's flank and he shuddered, groaning. The sound wasn't lost on Tom who paused briefly in his spiel to look back at the man clinging to him. Jordan would have to take it easy, settle down for the time being. Forcing himself to look on the bright side, he was at least glad that he was injured in a new world. He could learn about it while he sat around doing absolutely nothing useful. 

-and you'll have to pick a team. Mine is the best of course.” Tom rambled.

Jordan shook his head, realizing that Tom had been talking all this time. He hadn't been listening.

“Team?” 

“Yus! Choose a god to serve! I'm team Dianite, he's the bad guy. Tucker serves Mianite, he's a goody two shoes bitch.” Tom continued with a snicker. 

Jordan pressed his lips together. “I'll sleep on it.” 

“Whatever, as long as you end up on Dianite in the end.” 

They let the silence hang between them then as Tom guided his horse through the world. After passing through a very strange looking grove of trees they came alongside a gorge overhung by an intimidating cliff face. An elaborate bridge spanned the gap and Tom took them across, ducking low as they entered a set of double doors.

“Mi casa!” Tom exclaimed proudly, hopping off the horse and holding out his arms for Captainsparklez to grab. 

Jordan grasped awkwardly at his friend's forearms, shifting around on the horse until he was in a good position to hop down.

“Ready?”

“Yeah, here we-”

The dark haired man slid from the back of the horse, and Tom did his best to break his fall. Unfortunately it didn't turn out as graceful as the captain had hoped and he landed on his good leg, hopping to regain his balance before ultimately failing and falling against the half zombie before him.

Tom's black eyes widened and he stumbled backwards a few steps, hands clutching at the captain's suit jacket as he fought to keep them upright. 

“Why Sparklypants if I didn't know any better I'd think you were coming onto me!” 

They were pressed together from chest to thigh as Tom supported both their weights and Jordan hid his blush behind a roll of his eyes. With a grunt he managed to get his feet underneath him and step back, smoothing his jacket as Tom's hands skimmed limply down his sides as he loosened his hold. 

“All I see is you taking advantage of a crippled man.” Jordan jested, putting another half step between them. It was warm in here. 

“It's just a flesh wound!” Tom quoted cheekily, avoiding eye contact in favor of rooting through a chest and shoving some potatoes at his house guest. “Consider it a bribe from team Dianite.”

Jordan grinned, pocketing the potatoes. “Oh I see, you're just being nice to me because you want me to join your cult.”

“Okay one,” Tom pouted, wagging a finger, “it's not a cult. And two, yes absolutely. I'll throw your ass out if you even look in the direction of Mianite.” 

“Maybe I won't join either.”

Tom sounded offended. “You can't do that.” 

“Can't I?” 

“No you have to choose a god.”

“Well I'll just choose another god.”

“There aren't any other gods, come on Sparklez choose Dianite!” Tom was whining, trying his best to pull off a sad puppy dog face despite his frankly spooky black and red eyes. 

“Then I'll find one.” Jordan said stubbornly, unswayed by his friend's attempts to gain sympathy. “How'd you find out about the gods anyway.” 

Syndicate quit the act, intrigued by the captain's question. “I don't know actually, we just knew. And then they showed up in person so, you know, not much debating to be done on whether or not it was just our imaginations.”

Jordan frowned. “So there's no like, religious texts or anything? No history books?” 

Tom shook his head. “Not that I know of. Actually you could probably ask the priest, if anyone would know it'd be him.”

“The priest?” 

“Mianite’s priest.” He answered, making a pretend gagging motion. “I'll show you in the morning, sun's going down.” Tom sounded eager to end the conversation for whatever reason. 

He wasn’t wrong though, the sun was indeed setting. Soft orange light was filtering in through the windows on the doors. It stretched the shadows inside Tom's mountain home and softened the edges where colors met. Jordan felt the warm light tug on his muscles and he realized just how tired he was. It seemed a lifetime ago that he had been adrift at sea and yet he had been laying on the beach only this morning. 

The aches and pains of his body returned to the forefront of his focus. His ankle throbbed hotly and his head was still pounding steadily. 

Jordan stifled a yawn, stretching his arms behind him and swayed slightly, still unused to the lack of balance his ankle brace afforded him. Tom shuffled forward, hands tentatively raising to steady the injured adventurer before him. His green fingers settled lightly on Jordan’s ribs, his touch cool through the fabric of his jacket so unlike the warmth of a fully living being. After being cooked alive by the blistering sun over the past few days Jordan welcomed his friend’s cool caress. 

“You look like shit.” Tom murmured softly.

“Thanks.” Jordan responded, smirking tiredly. “I think I’m done for the day. Need my beauty sleep.”

“You can stay here, obviously.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you Sparklez.”

Tom guided him, arm wrapped securely around the captain’s torso, to a small alcove under a set of stairs. He opened the door revealing a single bed, the space beneath the staircase offering no room for anything else. 

“Cosy.” He remarked, allowing Tom to set him down on the edge of the mattress. 

“I know you’re mocking me but I’m choosing to be the bigger man here and not retaliate against a cripple.”

“Why such a small room?” Jordan continued to rib, bending with a grunt to untie his remaining shoe. His muscles twinged in protest. 

Tom gently slapped Jordan’s hands away, removing the shoe himself with deft fingers. “I don’t use it much. I’m out during the day to talk to Tucker and the rest, and I’m out at night because I’m more productive then. The sun stings my skin, hurts my eyes. It was supposed to be a temporary spot but I don’t have any use for something fancier.” 

That made sense to Jordan. He had always wondered if the sun had any effect on his zombified friend. Apparently so. It also gave a reason for his constant formal attire, it covered his skin up to his wrists. Tom should look into sunglasses too. Jordan would offer his own trademark red shades if he still had them. He had a suspicion they had been lost somewhere on the beach. 

“Do you ever sleep, then?”

“Mm not really.” Tom said with a shrug. “There aren't really any repercussions. Won't be until 1.13 I think.”

“What?”

Tom screwed up his eyes and waved his hand with a cheeky grin. “Don't worry about it.” 

“You’re not sleeping here tonight then?” Jordan didn’t think they’d both fit anyway. He was short but stocky, his shoulders alone taking up more than their fair share on the twin sized bed. 

Tom shook his head, black eyes avoiding the captain’s. “I have some things I need to do. Spent too much time helping your ass today.”

The dark haired man chuckled. “Glad to know I’m such a burden.” 

“Incredibly.” Tom quipped back. 

CaptainSparklez didn’t respond right away and Syndicate didn’t make a move to leave the bedside. Tom’s irises glowed red, an anchor point in the darkness the setting sun left behind. It had been so long since Jordan had seen him, seen anyone. He had spent so long in that jungle alone, it felt good to be close to someone again. So long with nothing but the swaying branches, rocking waves, rushing wind. Tom was real and solid and here.

Tom cleared his throat, adjusting the cuffs on his suit. “Time to go out and make an ice tunnel.” And the red light of his eyes blinked shut and was gone, footsteps thumping away in the dark. “Goodnight Sparklez.” His accented voice called. The sound of the front door opening and then closing resounded in the mountain base and the captain let his head hit the pillow beneath him. 

“Goodnight Tom.”

As he drifted off to sleep he felt like he was floating. Tide flowing in and out. Wind rushing through the crags in the world of Mianite.


	2. Chapter 2

Jordan slept restlessly despite being so exhausted. He dreamt of rolling purple mist over a choppy sea, and he was caught in the pull of a riptide. Slipping further and further towards an ever thickening wall of purple haze. He struggled ineffectively, weakened limbs and heavy ankle useless against the pull off the current. He was lost, and drowning. There was no comforting sound of the waves or treetops here. 

He awoke suddenly, gasping while sweat rolled down his face like salty sea spray. His heart thudded wildly in his chest, echoed by a louder thumping inside the mountain base. The thumping was followed by a crash and a loud accented curse.

Syndicate had returned. Jordan pulled in a deep breath to steady his racing heart and his eyes adjusted to the gloom. It wasn't yet morning as there was no soft glow coming from the front doors. Jordan groaned. He hadn't managed to sleep for very long. 

“Ah fuck, I didn't wake you did I?” Called an apologetic Tom from somewhere by the furnaces. 

“No.” Jordan croaked, clearing his voice. “No, I was awake already. Bad dream.” 

“Ah that sucks.” Tom grumbled, before hissing in pain. “Ow fuck.”

Jordan untangled himself from the sweaty blankets, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “You okay?” He called into the darkness. 

“Yeah, got shot by a few skeletons, no big deal.” 

Considering Jordan wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon he struggled upright, taking assessment of his ankle before leaning heavily on the support columns around the base, and making his way over to Tom. His ankle was very swollen. To the point where he couldn't even wiggle his toes. They had turned a sickly purple color, not good. 

Tom's eyes were glowing embers in the dark, guiding Jordan like a moth to flame. He sank awkwardly to his knees before the half zombie who was sitting on the floor by the furnaces. 

“Light a torch would you?”

“Oh right you can't see in the dark, hAH. Stupid human.” 

“Shut up.” Jordan chastised, flicking the shaft of an arrow still embedded in his friend's side.

Tom yelped in pain, lighting a torch and sticking it in a slot in the wall. “Asshole.”

Jordan grinned wryly before actually getting to work, fingers skirting around Tom's body in search of broken shafts. The good thing about skeletons is that they normally didn't hit very hard. They were magically undead, sure, but they didn't have the muscles necessary to really let an arrow fly. Most of the time their arrows bounced off of armor, bruising but no worse. On the off-chance one managed to get a lucky shot, sticking between the plates of a well loved chest piece or slipping in where there's room for a joint to move, they never stuck very deep. Still it was a pain, and getting them all out by your lonesome never got easier. Especially in those hard to reach places. 

“You've got two that I can tell.” Jordan observed, slipping his fingers under Tom's breastplate to grab at the base of a shaft stuck near his ribs. “Ready?”

Tom grunted in affirmation and the captain yanked, freeing the arrow with steady hands. The green skinned man gasped, slapping his palm over the puncture to staunch the bleeding. “I've had worse, thank Dianite.” 

Jordan rolled his eyes, fingers skimming lower down his companion's side. “ 'thank Dianite’ “ he parroted curiously. “You say that like it's a religion.”

“I mean, it sort of is isn't it? He's a god.”

“I suppose. God with a lowercase ‘g’ though.”

“It's called a polyamory, Sparklez.” Tom said haughtily.

The stocky man beside him chuckled, fingers curling around the second arrow shaft. This one was broken near the head, harder to remove. “I don't think that's the word.”

“You making fun of me you sausage?” He paused, gears turning in his head. “I meant uhh, pantheon?”

“Yup-” Sparklez nodded, “hey lift up your armor here, I need to get at it.”

Tom obliged and their knuckles knocked together, his slick with a cool dark blood, Jordan's warm and rough. 

The stocky man grunted, a wordless reminder not to bump his hand as he gripped the arrow shaft. 

“Ready?” Jordan asked, fingers wrapped tightly around the slick arrow.

“Do it.” Tom murmured tightly. 

Captainsparklez yanked hard, arrowhead popping free with a lazy gush of blood. Both men moved to slip their hands over the wound, fingers interlocking, sticky with blood. 

The seeping slowed and Jordan shifted, sitting down next to the half zombie with an ungrateful thump, injured leg stretched out awkwardly in front of him. 

Tom looked to the front door, warm light beginning to permeate the night sky. “Thanks dude.”

“Of course. Anything for you, Tom.” Jordan answered with a lopsided grin, echoing his friends words from last night. 

Syndicate chittered softy with laughter, leaning heavily against his friend and letting out a sigh. He glanced down at Jordan's foot and grimaced.

“That looks disgusting, is it supposed to do that?”

Jordan followed Tom's gaze to his swollen purple toes. “I don't know actually. I haven't been injured like this in a long time.”

“Can you move them?” The green skinned man asked, leaning in as if he wanted to prod at him.

“Please don't touch them.” Jordan whined. “And no not really. Is that a bad sign?”

“Hell if I know.” 

They sat in silence for a bit, weighing the likelihood of having to chop the captain's foot off. Jordan shuddered. 

“So-” Tom said through a yawn, “what're you going to do today, priest's house?” 

“I guess so.” Said Jordan, steadying himself against Tom's slumping weight. “Could I borrow your horse?” 

“Mmm sure, but don't go stealing him on me! Use him to get your own. They're nearish a village, you might find a history book there, ya nerd.”

The more muscled of the two rolled his eyes again. “Not like I can do much else right now.” He complained, slapping his right shin, then flinching as it sent a jolt to his ankle. Bad choice, don't do that again. 

Tom clicked his tongue squeezing Jordan's fingers, which were still entwined with his over his arrow puncture. “That'll heal up fine. Probably. And you can stay with me until it does.”

Jordan's head turned to face Tom's, they were close, pressed together from shoulder to hip. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Anything for you Sparklez.” He swallowed thickly. Jordan's eyes flitted across Tom's features, feeling a tug in the back of his mind, drawing him towards the green skinned Brit. He was tempted to do something he'd surely regret. It would be easy, though. They were sitting so close. Tom blinked slowly, and wetted his lips. 

Captainsparklez didn't act on his urges. 

The two adventurers shared another beat of peace. Tom unstuck their fingers in the ensuing silence, staggering upright and then offering a hand to the bulkier man, head turned down and away. His green skin flushed darker across the bridge of his nose. “And you know, if it doesn't heal soon you could always pray to Dianite to get it fixed.” He said, clearing his throat and breaking the silence. 

Jordan exhaled, letting the tension of the moment dissipate as they fell back into familiar banter. “You can do that?”

“Oh yeah, you can pray for lots of stuff. ‘Course you have to do something for him in return.” Syndicate stepped away and rooted around in a few of his chests, then shoved some armor and an iron sword into Jordan’s arms. “Something evil.” He winked.

Captainsparklez chuckled, pulling the chestplate over his shoulders and loosening the straps to fit him better. “Well I don't know about that, I don't consider myself an evil guy.”

“Nonsense!” said Tom boisterously, slapping the other man on the back. Jordan winced, stumbling slightly. “You just haven’t seen the light- er dark yet! You know once Tucker and Sonja start to prank you you’ll be begging to join Dianite.”

“I’m guessing Sonja also serves Mianite then,” he knew Sonja was Tucker’s girlfriend, it was good to know she was here, Jordan got along well with her. “Wouldn’t it be more advantageous for me to join them?”

“Nononono, after I’ve invited you into my home, Sparklez? Let you ride my horse? Let you remove my arrows?”

Jordan laughs, “Is removing your arrows a privilege now?”

“Yes and you should be grateful.” Tom rebuked with a fake pout. 

Jordan stretched with a sigh, slotting his hands behind his head. “I don’t know, Tom. I’ve got a lot of time to do nothing so I might as well take my time, picking a uh, god to serve. Weird way to join a cult.”

“Not a cult.” Tom wagged a green finger in the captain’s direction before making his way over to his stallion and untethering it from the post. He handed the lead to Jordan before grabbing a very nice looking pickaxe and scampering to the door. ”So I’m going adventuring with Tucker today, we’re taking a portal to a different biome. Whatever whatever, you don’t care. Anyway, I’m writing the coordinates for the priest’s house and the horses, go nuts buddy.”  
Hardly waiting for a response, Syndicate ducked out the door and bounded across the bridge, leaving CaptainSparklez standing with his horse in the early morning light. 

“That was a quick exit…” the captain murmured to himself, hobbling up alongside the stallion and patting its dappled flank. He wasn’t all that surprised, Tom was always busy, constantly flitting from thing to thing. It was hard to coordinate with him, Jordan knew that from past experiences, but he was passionate and always put his all into everything, no matter how short of a time he spent on a task. It was something Jordan really admired about the other man. Never a dull moment. Unless, of course, he was forced to sit around with someone as incapacitated as Jordan that is. The injured adventurer sighed. He would be lying to himself if he said the sudden way Tom had exited hadn't wounded him. He had a bad feeling it had something to do with the buzzing tension between them. Jordan refused to acknowledge it as sexual tension.

The horse whinnied and swished its tail, unhappy with the delay. 

“Yeah yeah I hear you, boy.” Jordan soothed while readying himself to mount the animal. Leaping as high as he could with his good leg, Jordan managed to grab the far edge of the saddle with both hands, giving him just barely enough leverage to wiggle up and onto its back. Judging by the way it tossed its head the horse wasn't a fan of his awkward maneuver, but at least he was on it. 

 

The journey to the priest's house was uneventful. Aside from a few mishandlings with the horse, causing his ankle to thump painfully against that the animal's side, he reached the partially constructed castle without issue. 

The lack of conflict gave him ample time to take in his surroundings. In about the center point of Tucker, Tom, and the priest's house was a stone valley with a view out into the savanna. There were a few rivers winding around the bases of the mountains, cutting swaths through the plains. Judging by Tom's coordinates for the wild horses he'd have to cross a few and then continue on through a desert that was just barely visible over the crest of a hill to his right. The wind was blowing from that direction now, sending a dry heat his way. The whole area was rather arid, the desert deterring any humidity from the sea. 

A particularly noteworthy landmark was a few blocks of floating dirt floating high above the savanna, near the shore where he had washed up. He hadn't remembered the location of it while he was there, having been largely unconscious, but Tom had taken him by it again on his tour of the land. 

Not really up to the task of hobbling his way up the flight of steps into the priest's sanction, Jordan pressed himself low into the saddle of Tom's horse and urged it slowly into the entryway, a small but elaborate stone hallway. The horses hoof steps echoed satisfyingly in the hall and Jordan patted the side of its neck affectionately. The hallway was short and opened into a large and well decorated courtyard. At the far edge was a large nether portal and an enchanting table and to the left was another entryway, it looked like it led to the priest’s quarters which spiraled up into the side of the mountain it was positioned against. 

Fiddling with the books surrounding the enchanting table was a ginger man wearing simple chain mail armor. 

“Priest?” Jordan called out, pulling on the reigns of the horse to keep it in place.

The ginger man turned around meeting eyes with the captain, or would have if his hair wasn’t flopped down the front of his face, obscuring his gaze.

“Greetings!” The man greeted in an accent similar to Syndicate’s. “You must be the famous CaptainSparklez! I’ve heard tale about you.”

Jordan grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “Really? All good things I hope.” 

The priest shrugged. “The gods are interested in you.”

Jordan tilted his head, “You can speak to them?”

The priest nodded, fluffy hair swaying luxuriously. Maybe it’s Maybelline.

“Can you...tell me about them? Or do you have a book about them?” He trailed off. This guy was hard to read, his face was consistently expressionless, even when he had greeted Jordan so warmly. And the excessive hair covering his face, in both beard and bangs sure didn’t help things. Jordan didn't want to accidentally overstep his bounds. 

“Are you going to get down from your high horse?” the priest quipped in return.

Jordan pressed his lips together and tilted his head. It sounded like the priest was ribbing him but he honestly didn’t know. Regardless he didn’t want to make a bad impression. 

“Uh yeah, sure.” He answered and then paused to think carefully about how he would get down without Tom’s help. Well, leap of faith. He shifted in the saddle, swinging his good leg up and over so he was sitting sideways. Taking in a deep breath he slid from the horse, miraculously landing steadily with only mild wincing as he scuffed his brace against the ground. 

“Nice fashion statement you’ve got going on there.” The priest commented, nodding towards the shorter man’s crude ankle brace. He then moved back over to the bookshelves without any preamble or offer of help. 

“Okay then.” Jordan muttered, limping after him. 

The priest was still thumbing through thickly bound books by the time Jordan managed to drag his sorry ass over to that side of the courtyard.

“Do you want it in English?” the priest drawled.

“That’d be preferable, yes.” The injured man replied, bracing himself on the enchanting table.

“Hmm that’s a shame, the English one’s incomplete.”

“Why offer it then.” Jordan grumbled before shaking his head and addressing the priest again. “What language is the other one? I know a bit of Spanish. Más o menos.”

“Uhh, not Spanish, unfortunately. Nope, it’s in some sort of ancient language. If I had to guess? Written by the gods.” He made a clicking noise against the inside of his cheek. “I can’t help you with that I’m afraid.”

“Can’t read?” Jordan said with a smirk, motioning to his own hair in reference to the luscious locks covering the priest’s eyes. 

“Can’t read the language of the gods, no. I said that.” stated the priest, joke going right over his head. Or maybe his sense of humor was more along the lines of intentionally ignoring the set up to jokes. Jordan couldn’t tell.

He shook his head and ran his fingers through his short dark hair. “What if I took both? Cross referenced them.”

The priest waved his hand nonchalantly. “You’re welcome to try, I can’t be bothered. Why read about the gods when you can talk to them, you feel? Anyway it’s not like anyone else in this world is interested in reading, myself included.” He tossed the books in CaptainSparklez’s direction who caught them clumsily.

“Thanks, uh, priest.”

“Declan. Or his holiness, whichever,” he offered, smirking.

“Declan then.” He pointed to the window of the priest’s quarters a few dozen feet up the mountain it was imbedded into. “Mind if I use your study and get to reading?”

“Mind if I use your horse?”

Jordan looked back at the dappled stallion behind them, grazing peacefully in the grass. “It’s Tom’s actually, not mine to lend.”

“Ah our resident Dianitee. I’d warn you against associating with him but I doubt you’d listen.” 

He was correct in that assumption, Jordan was still new enough to the concept of the gods to take any sort of warning on their behalf with a grain of salt.

“I’m guessing this is because you serve Mianite?”

“Got it in one. He’ll turn on you as soon as his god asks him to you know.”

Jordan shrugged. “I’m not too worried about that, I can take Tom.” 

“Suit yourself. I’m taking the horse though.”

“Return it when I’m done reading?”

“Of course, barring something happens to it.” Declan muttered cryptically. Jordan pressed his lips together and they stewed in an awkward silence for a few seconds. 

The shorter man cleared his throat. “...Please return the horse.”

“Aye aye captain.” 

 

They parted ways, Declan leading the horse out the stone hallway and Jordan limping slowly up the stairs in the priest’s quarters. It was a nice space, well lit with tasteful architecture. Jordan thought the exposed beams and vaulted ceilings were very priest-like. 

Settling down at a sturdy oak table, Jordan carefully positioned his leg so that it was propped up on a chair opposite him, and laid the books along with a notebook and quill he pilfered from Declan’s chest room on the surface.

“This is just as good as mining and building.” He said to the empty room, flipping open the english version of the history book. It smelled musky, the trademark scent of an old book. He held back a sneeze. Just as good as mining and building. Nothing more entertaining than this. 

It turned out, however, to be quite interesting. He spent the afternoon pouring over the English version of the text, getting a feel for the lore. Mianite and Dianite were brothers and they ruled over the land with Balance between them. Balance with a capital 'B’. 

It was a strange choice, he thought, to capitalize the word balance. No other word seemed to hold that importance besides proper nouns. But the English translation was full of holes, pockmarked like moth eaten lace. The priest hadn't been kidding when he said it was incomplete, though he had failed to mention that it had been rendered that way purposefully. This damage wasn't a moth's doing. 

Whole chapters had been torn out and words systematically punched through, leaving little black holes of information. Large portions of the text were incomprehensible to understand with the alterations. 

So he cracked open the other book, twice as thick and three times as old. The yellow pages were thick and crackly beneath his fingers. His first impression was that of exasperation, the characters weren't even English, it seemed to be some sort of runic alphabet. 

However it was easy to make some comparisons. The names of the gods, along with ‘Balance’ were always written in a metallic gold ink. Maybe it actually was gold.  
Because of that he quickly realized what a good portion of the omissions were in the first book, the name and reference to the third god, Balance.  
Balance was referenced equally as often as the other two, as if they stood on equal grounds.  
He was also able to read the deity's name, only one letter different from the other two. 

Ianite. 

Another piece of context came in the form of a chapter that had been ripped completely from the other book. He realized from a large and elaborate illustration at the beginning of the chapter that Ianite was female. The adventurer stared at the image curiously. She was a beautiful goddess. Something about her drew Jordan in, he felt as if he were being tugged in her direction by some unknown and vague source. 

Shaking his head to clear his head of the enchanting lull, Jordan studied the image. It was incredibly complex. Pictured, was Ianite front and center, arms outstretched to either side as if holding something back. On both sides were multiple figures carrying weapons, gazes focused not on the goddess between them but on each other. Shimmering around her, barely visible due to the page's weathering was a shimmering gold cage.  
Jordan scratched his head, unsure of what to make of it. The text portions of the chapter wouldn't be any help in providing any more context, he was still miles away from being able to decipher it. 

With his new knowledge of Ianite, Jordan returned to the English translation with fresh eyes. A great many more passages made sense now knowing that Balance referred to a deity. 

One particularly meaty chapter that he had been avoiding seemed more palatable now. It was bizzare to say the least.  
He leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. Late afternoon light spilled in through the large window across from him, bathing the room in a comfortable warmth. Jordan yawned, stretching his arms above him and flexing his right ankle. It twinged painfully but elevating it for the past few hours seemed to have done it some good. 

Distractedly he scratched at the woodgrain with a blunt fingernail. He wondered if Tom knew all this about the gods. He certainly didn’t know about Ianite. And he had mentioned that the gods frequently visited the world, or Mianite and Dianinte did at least. So where was Ianite? Had she been defeated by the armies in the picture? Locked away in the gilded cage? What was her relation to them anyway? The two active gods were brothers, was Ianite also their sibling?

He sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Despite the fact that she seemed to be missing in action, Jordan felt that she should be the deity he serves. She seemed the most level headed, the most fair, and the most, well, balanced of the three. It felt right, destined almost. 

That feeling unnerved him, entirely because of the contents of the chapter he was currently skimming

It outlined past and future events, which was strange in and of itself as history books usually just stick to telling history. However the really odd part was that it listed many different future events, all supposedly taking place concurrently.

For example, the book actually predicted the arrival of four heroes, their descriptions eerily similar to Jordan and his friends. From there events began to branch. It described who Jordan guessed was himself joining Dianite and killing Sonja. It then described him joining Mianite, shoving Tom off a mountainside and dumping lava on someone he couldn’t identify, Tucker by his side. There were descriptions where he joined Ianite and did all those things, and then passages even further removed from reality with Tucker joining Dianite or Ianite never being discovered. 

Jordan chewed his lip, trying his best to follow the threads of what he assumed were different timelines. 

Not all of them lasted very long, some versions seemed to end in spectacularly horrible ways. The timelines that did continue on for longer had many details omitted, ripped from the book like all information on Ianite. 

This left Jordan with a choice. Should he make his decisions based on the book? It gave him an unusual leg up, who else can say they had the ability to predict the future. However he didn’t like the idea of being tied down by destiny. It was an uncomfortable sensation to be faced with the fact that no matter what choices he made there was a predetermined path set for him. 

There was comfort in knowing things would work out, should he choose the right path, though. 

He was making a leap, hoping that the timelines that continued on the longest were the best to follow. This provided a framework of a few promising timelines, giving him guidance on actions to take. 

After scouring over the text for another half hour he decided on a course of action. 

He had to choose Ianite, something he had already decided on, easy. He had to align himself with Mianite, wage war on dianite and Tom. Less easy. They would spend a lot of time pranking each other, a given in any timeline apparently, but there would also be long stretches of time where they were bitter enemies, hiding in holes in the ground, pillaging and brutally fighting. 

Jordan didn’t know how to feel about that. Hiding in secret bases forever wasn’t his idea of fun. The fact that it seemed to be set in stone didn’t thrill him either. But he had already made up his mind to follow the book, right? He could always be in the right place at the right time, always save his friends from disaster. He had been gifted this power of premonition simply by sitting down to read. He shouldn’t squander it. 

He pushed himself back from the desk, brow wrinkled. This was a lot. 

Another pressing issue was the omitted information. Who removed those passages along with all mention of Ianite? She obviously wasn’t in the picture at the moment, that much was obvious. It seemed pretty fishy. It would make sense that whoever altered the book didn’t want anyone to find out who Ianite was for a reason, perhaps they were the one who did away with her. Maybe she was a threat. It sounded like something Dianite would do, he was a bad guy right?

He groaned loudly, stretching his muscled arms up and over his head. 

“Reading some erotic fiction?” A voice drawled from behind him. 

Jordan snapped his head around, almost tipping out of the chair. He felt his face heat up.

“Wha- Tom! No, it’s a history book.” He closed the cover, sliding the book out of view. He didn’t want Tom to read it. He was Ianite, Tom wasn’t. This was his secret to keep.

“Whatever you say Sparklez.” Syndicate grinned, sauntering over to where Jordan sat, leaning over his chair. 

“What happened to adventuring?” Jordan asked, tipping his head up to meet Tom’s gaze, lips curling into a smile. Tom was a good distraction from the mind games of the books, a thrill running up his spine whenever they were in close contact. He pushed the troublesome tome from his mind, figuring out what happened to Ianite could wait. Though a thought prickled in the back of his mind that he probably shouldn't be holding Tom to a higher importance than his new god.

Tom shrugged. “Got bored, also Tucker ran out of food so we had to come back.” He rested his arms over Jordan’s broad shoulders, still hovering over him from behind the chair. “Have you gotten a horse of your own yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Well let’s go!”

Jordan slid his books into the drawer beneath the table before standing, Tom offering him a helping hand.

“The priest uh, borrowed your horse.”

“Are you serious?” Tom asked, grimacing. “Well, I’m never getting that back…”

Jordan winced. “Sorry.”

“Nah it's okay, there are plenty more.” Tom said, waving it off with an easy grin. 

Jordan grinned back. “Mind helping me get over there, then?”

Tom looped his arm around Jordan's muscled back, pulling the shorter man tight against his side.

“Anything for you, Sparklez.” 

They both snickered, Jordan leaning into Tom's firm grip. He was glad Tom was here. He didn't want to have to think about how uncontrollable his destiny was, or what egregious acts he knew he'd commit in the future. He didn't want to think about how he'd have to declare war on the very man holding him up. He wanted to distract himself with horses, then he'd focus on the task at hand. 

“You okay?” 

Jordan shook his head, bringing himself back to the world around him. “Yeah, let's go get horses!”

Syndicate whooped happily before almost accidentally dropping Captainsparklez down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest of the three chapters, and the dullest, whoops!  
> Lots of reading in this once, both for you and our main man. Anyway only one more chapter to go after this! The tension builds 
> 
> follow me on tumblr btw! my username is the same as it is here, dontatkiwi


	3. Chapter 3

Syndicate and Captainsparklez were so busy evaluating horses that they almost didn’t notice the sun setting or the wind picking up until it was too late. It was already late afternoon when they had left the priest's house and slowly hobbled over to the wild horses, and they'd spent a long time in the fields, checking over the animals too. 

Jordan looked to the sky. It had grown dark, and blotting out the stars was a wall of black clouds rolling threateningly across the expanse. 

“Hey, Tom?” he said, glancing to the green skinned man a few dozen blocks away.

Tom looked his way, hands stilling on the stallion he was considering.

“What?”

Jordan pointed to the storm clouds and Tom followed his gaze, just in time to see a bolt of white hot lightning split the sky in two. 

Tom’s eyes widened, red irises shining in the flash of light. “Shit.” 

Thunder cracked overhead and the horses answered in panicked neighs, bolting as a herd. Jordan flinched, rooting himself to the spot as the wild beasts stampeded past, hooves striking the earth and flinging clods of dirt and mud every which way. 

He could hear Tom cursing a few meters to his left but couldn't see him in the dark between the flashing pelts of the horses.   
Suddenly the sky opened up and a downpour of holy proportions was dumped upon them. 

“Tom!” He shouted through the noise of the rain and panicked horses, slicking his now drenched hair back from his forehead. 

If Syndicate yelled back it was drowned out by another clap of thunder joined simultaneously by a bolt of lightning. It split the sky in two, lighting up the world around them for just long enough for Jordan to spot the half a dozen mobs shambling towards them. 

“Oh gods.” He reacted immediately, lurching in the direction Tom was standing last. Predictably, his ankle brace caught on the uneven earth in the darkness and he pitched forward, landing hard in the mud. It sprayed up around him, splattering against his face only to stream into his eyes as the rain continued its downpour. He spat furiously, clawing at the mud to crawl forward. His ankle howled in pain as it dragged behind him but Jordan grit his teeth and moved as fast as he could. 

“Jordan!” he heard Tom's voice shriek above the howling wind and rain. Another clap of thunder and lightning. A skeleton's arrow thunked in the mud next to his head. 

Digging his nails into the mud, Jordan heaved himself in the direction of his friend's voice. He felt the mud slide thickly around him, pulling at him. Despite the situation, and how he should have been wholly focusing on the sound of the encroaching mobs and Tom's voice, Jordan was reminded of his dream and how the purple mist had dragged him out to sea. The way the mud and rain seeped into his clothes, sucked painfully at his injury and slowed his progress to an even more grueling crawl was frighteningly similar to the sensations in his dream. The roiling thunderhead above him began to take on a tinge of purple and Jordan couldn't say for sure if it was his imagination. It filled him with dread.

“Tom!” He shouted, throat raw at the volume he was forcing. 

Slick hands grasped the back of his suit jacket, yanking him roughly upwards. Hoping desperately that it was Tom, the filth covered man struggled desperately to get his legs underneath him. His good leg struggled for purchase in the damp earth and he kicked upwards with his broken ankle, relying on adrenaline to dampen the pain. 

A cold hand grasped at his pants leg, accompanied with a gurgling snarl and Jordan yelped in a very manly way, scrabbling his way up into Tom's grip. 

“Jesus, let's go!” Syndicate yowled, pulling Jordan to him and taking off towards a small building a few dozen blocks away. Captainsparklez tried his best to pull his own weight, but failed miserably and Tom practically dragged him through the door of an old base. He was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor while Tom slammed the door shut behind them. The growls and clanks of angry mobs created a cacophony with the thunderstorm outside. 

Inside the base was a stunned silence broken only by ragged breathing and the drip of rainwater from their clothes. 

Captainsparklez remained crumpled on the floor, shaking uncontrollably, both from the adrenaline and the cold from his soaked clothing 

“I think I'm in shock.” He wheezed. 

Tom nodded, sliding down the door and plopping onto the floor. “Yeah, that was intense.”

“Thanks for saving my bacon.”

The green skinned man giggled weakly. “Anything for you, Sparklez.” 

They both exhaled in relief, blue eyes meeting black. Jordan would be the first to admit that his emotions were running high. It had all happened so fast and coupled with the weird deja vu about his dream and the near death experience he would definitely consider himself emotionally compromised. Still he couldn't help but feel a spark of warmth directed at Syndicate that his body was urging him to act on. He began to feel a pattern forming when it came to being close to Tom. 

Their eyes were still locked. Tom licked his lips and pushed his sopping hair back. Jordan sighed, offering a lopsided smile. 

His heart was pounding, convinced he would've done something foolish if it weren't for his lack of mobility. The excuses not to act were getting thinner. 

“We should stay here, wait the storm out.” He croaked, barely audible over the pounding rain and bloodthirsty monsters. 

Tom nodded again, shakily standing, using the door behind him as a support. He stood there for a moment, chest still heaving to slow his racing heart. Water dripped steadily from his clothes, and his skin was flushed greener than usual. 

This time Jordan couldn't blame the sunstroke when he though Tom's skin was pretty. 

“We need to get out of these.” The half zombie grunted, pulling at his soaked suit jacket. 

“You want me to strip? Scandalous.” Jordan laughed breathlessly, sitting up slightly to work at removing his own jacket. 

Tom giggled, the sound of it bordering on hysteria. They were soaking wet, muddy, but unscathed. They were alive. 

Jordan began laughing as well, heart still beating a mile a minute. He managed to fling his jacket off, flopping back on the floor as he laughed, voice bouncing around the small room. 

Tom's own laughter began increasing in volume until he was cackling alongside his companion. He had shucked off his tie and jacket before giving up, sinking to his knees beside Jordan, wet hands slipping for purchase on the hardwood floor. 

“I can't believe you fell down!” Tom gasped between hysterical laughter. His red irises were shining mirthfully. 

Jordan made a weak attempt at removing the button up plastered wetly to his skin, but gave up, fingers fumbling aimlessly at the buttons. “Just my luck, I can't catch a break!”

“Well you broke your ankle!” Tom howled, slapping Jordan's chest. 

The well muscled man giggled hysterically, dropping his hand onto Tom's as it rose and fell with Jordan's breath. 

Their laughter petered out, exhaustion creeping up in its place. Jordan began to feel the sensations of his body, one at a time. The throbbing in his ankle came back first, crashing waves of pain against his psyche. Next his clothing, heavy wet and cold. His shirt was practically transparent now, clinging to the swell of his muscles, freezing. He shivered, the only point of warmth being Tom's hand, pressed firmly against his chest. Not that Tom had much in the way of body heat anyway. 

“I'll tell you what's unfair,” Tom breathed, eyes roaming Jordan’s muscled torso. Jordan felt the mood shift. “How hot you look right now, despite having been dragged through the mud.”

“I’m pretty cold actually.” Jordan grinned weakly, humoring him. 

“I’m serious dude.” Tom murmured. “You could get any bitch in Mianite.”

Jordan shrugged, hyper aware now of Tom’s long green fingers beneath his own shorter ones. “Sure.”

Blue eyes met black and red and Jordan's face flushed. Tom's did too, his green skin darkening. Jordan found it alluring. 

‘Any bitch’ apparently included Tom because all of a sudden Jordan was giving into his urges, pushing himself up and into the other man, lips pressed against his. The kiss was cold, both due to Tom's natural body temperature and the freezing rain carried in from the sea. 

Tom didn't taste like the sea though, he tasted coppery, like blood, like iron and the earth.   
And like he did with all things, Tom jumped in immediately and without thought, returning Captainsparklez's kiss with urgency. Jordan exhaled shakily as Tom leant back into him, lips moving fervently against his own.

Syndicate's hands glided across Jordan's torso, following the contours of his form.

“You're so fucking cut.” Tom breathed against his mouth, and Jordan grunted, joining their mouths again, shutting Tom up.

He had started kissing Tom on an urge, a need to relieve a building tension, and for a few moments he had been caught in the tide and the fizzing sparks between them. 

But as soon as Tom had opened his pretty mouth the spell had been broken, dam crumbling, bringing waves of thought rushing in. 

Tom pulled him closer, hands clutching at the swell of Jordan's arms. 

He was soaking wet and kissing one of his best friends on the floor. Kissing a follower of Dianite on the floor. According to the book he shouldn't be doing this. In order to get the best possible future he shouldn't be doing this. Jordan huffed a hot puff of breath through his nose, opening his mouth to say something, anything.   
Tom pushed his tongue in between Jordan's kiss swollen lips and Jordan slid his tongue against Tom's on reflex. Tom groaned. 

Tom had been avoiding him, despite his eagerness to help, which Jordan appreciated. He appreciated it a lot. He appreciated this a lot. The kiss, the way Tom was holding him, it felt good and Jordan couldn't help himself from making and embarrassing noise in the back of his throat. 

But Tom had been avoiding him, cutting conversations short and dashing out the door. Maybe Jordan was over analyzing it, but it made it difficult to know what Tom wanted, despite the press of their lips and bodies. 

“I want you.” Tom murmured against Jordan's lips. His green fingers moved to the captain's button up and he fumbled with the buttons, peeling the shirt off of him. 

Jordan shivered, cool air hitting his damp skin and goosebumps rose on his arms. Tom's fingertips ghosted over them like he was reading braille, his lips pressing feather light against Jordan's. 

Jordan sucked in a breath through his teeth. “We can't do this.” He croaked. 

“I- why not.” Tom's hands stilled on Jordan's skin. 

“Because-” he had fully intended to tell Tom about Ianite but in that moment he balked. “You've been ducking out of the room whenever we get close. It feels like you don't want this, or you don't know what you want. I don't want to make you-”

“I didn't know what I wanted.” Tom interjected, “but now I do, and I don't know why you're focusing on that. It feels like your reaching for reasons to stop, if you don't want this then tell me. But we're both adults and I don't like this sort of drama. Give it to me straight, Sparklez.”

Jordan couldn't help the corner of his mouth from quirking upwards at that choice in phrasing. “Well-”

Tom rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “Poor choice of words.” But he could help the grin that lit up his face either. 

The tension had dissipated slightly, and they remained, half reclined on the floor, too close to explain away. Jordan felt the pull of Tom again, his attraction to the green skinned man was like his dream, like what happened outside in the storm. Jordan felt like he was drowning. 

Fuck it. “It's because you're serving Dianite.”

Tom blinked, confusion etched into the slack lines of his face. 

“What? What do you mean, you're not-” he looked pained. “Did you really join Mianite?” 

Jordan swallowed thickly, “no, I joined Ianite, the third god. Well, goddess.” 

Tom scrunched up his brow.

“She represents balance, fairness, the order of things. I read about her today, in the books Declan gave me.” 

Tom opened and closed his mouth a few times a like a goldfish. It was clear gears were turning in his head as he tried to make sense of the information.

“I've never heard about her. Dianite and Mianite, they've never mentioned it.”

“I think something happened to her. The books were damaged, someone purposefully ripped out passages about her. Someone didn't want me to learn about her.”

Tom's gaze hardened. His hands slipped from Jordan's chest. “You think Dianite did it.”

“Yes.” 

Blue eyes met black and red. Their shared gaze was cold, hurt.

“I'm on his side, if he did. I'm not leaving Dianite.”

Jordan smiled weakly, eyes sorrowful. “I know.

The room felt colder than it had. His clothes felt heavy again, his leg on fire. The magic of their shared moment was ebbing. 

“Can't we still be allies?”

“I have to balance everything, Tom. I can't choose sides.” As he said it, Jordan knew it wasn't true. The book told him he was supposed to ally himself with Mianite. If he ended things with Tom now and then teamed up with Tucker and Sonja, Jordan knew Syndicate would never forgive him. 

“Then don't choose sides. Stay with me, be Ianite, I don't care. But I don't want there to be nothing, not after-” Syndicate trailed off, but his gaze was hardened. He didn't like giving up on things he wanted. 

“And if Dianite tells you to kill me?”

“Then we'll fight to the death I guess. But we don't have to let that stop us from doing what we want right now.”

This wasn't a good idea, anyone would be able to see that. And Jordan, with his knowledge of what was in those books knew it best. 

“Okay. Yeah.” He felt himself saying, despite better judgement. 

Because as much as Syndicate didn't like being told what to do, Captainsparklez didn't either. He didn't want to be forced to follow the book, to accept a fate set in stone. Mianite was a world where they could do whatever they wanted, not whatever a dusty old textbook wanted. And Jordan wanted Tom, whatever that entailed.   
Thinking about the book made his stomach pitch and roil like he was being tossed about at sea. He didn't need it, frankly, he could do without.   
Staring at the yellowed pages hadn't been a waste, he had learned about Ianite. But that was all he needed to know. None of this future telling timeline mess.  
He wanted to experience the future with his own eyes, make his own mistakes. And one of those mistakes might be staying close with Tom. But he'd find out when the time came. 

“Really?” Tom's eyes lit up and he pumped his fist obnoxiously.

Jordan grinned. “Yeah.”

Tom grinned back, wobbling as he worked his way to standing. “Well then,” he said, with a grandiose sweep of his hand, “would you like to join me on the bed?”

Jordan felt a blush color his face and neck, his expression tightening slightly.

“Wait no not like that. Get your mind out of the gutter, Sparklydick.” Tom chastised. “The floor sucks, and I'm cold.”

“Right! Of course.” Jordan chuckled awkwardly, face flushing even further. 

He hoisted himself off the floor, with Tom's help, and hobbled over to the edge of the bed, sitting down. 

They removed the rest of their soaking garments in silence before sliding under the blankets, their chilled skin pressing together. 

“We don't fit very well.” Tom snickered, tossing and turning. It was true, the bed clearly wasn't made for two, just like the one back in Tom's mountainside home. 

“Then quit squirming.” Jordan mumbled into the pillow, turning on his side to make himself smaller. Tom threaded his arms around the shorter man, chilly fingers curling against his skin.

Jordan shivered but didn't push him away, wanting to capture this moment in time. 

“Don't stop,” he murmured softly. 

Jordan had jumped into the phrase without really knowing what he meant. But he knew he wasn't just referring to being held, close and warm under the covers as the thunderstorm raged on outside. He was thinking about Tom helping him off of horses, down steps, showing him the world around them. He didn't want to stop helping Tom pull arrows out of his back, or kissing him on the floor of an abandoned base. He didn't want to stop being allies, maybe more than allies, despite what the future told him. He wanted to keep going, with Tom, in this new world.

“Of course.” Tom murmured against his skin, speech slurring as he drifted off to sleep. “Anything for you, Sparklez.” 

And if that night Jordan dreamt of purple mist and a tugging riptide, it was comforting. Rocking him to sleep, like gentle waves on the ocean. Like the wind whispering through a forest canopy. Like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wahoo we've reached the end  
> I learned a lot writing this, like how I should plan fics out before I jump into them.  
> But for a first go of a chaptered fic I'm pretty satisfied. Nowhere to go but up, right?  
> Anyway I hope you enjoyed it, I have some other stuff in the works that I'll post later on down the line
> 
> Follow me on my Tumblr --> https://dontatkiwi.tumblr.com/  
> I post art there as well as my writing and also other random minecraft stuff

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of three chapters for this fic!  
> To be honest I wrote the beginning scene with no ideas for a follow up and just wrote the rest as it came to me. Hopefully I managed to pull it together!  
> Feel free to leave tips or suggestions, I'm still very new to fic writing


End file.
